This is Eternity
by ismisesarah
Summary: Atticus Finch has died but who is there to welcome him when he walks through the pearly gates?


All Atticus knew was that he was soaring, ascending higher and higher into the clouds, his earthly life over and his heavenly life now awaiting him. While he had accepted that it was his time to go, he knew he'd never forget the faces of his heartbroken children, but what could he do? An angel had appeared and told him that his place was ready and all he needed to do was head towards the light in the distance, so who was he to argue? It wasn't as if he was going before his time; he'd lived to the impressive age of eighty, seen his two children get married and have children of their own, and died of heart failure during the night. It pained him to leave, but what could he do? His time on earth was finished and the good Lord was calling him home. And he was ready.

The welcoming light in the distance was getting warmer and brighter and he found himself being pulled through to the other side, a pair of towering golden gates greeting him along with an aged old man sitting behind a podium and mumbling incoherently to himself. The man didn't look up as Atticus began to look around his new surroundings, but remained sat where he was mumbling away. Confused and, yes he would admit a little bit scared, Atticus found himself slowly approaching the strange old man.

"Excuse me?" He tried to get his attention.

The man raised his eyes from behind half-moon spectacles and regarded Atticus before his face broke into a warm, welcoming smile. "Atticus Finch. There you are. I was beginning to think you had gotten lost," he chuckled. "Let me just tick you off." The man raised his feather quill and put a mark on the scroll in front of him. "She'll be so glad to see you. She was so excited, bless her, when she found out you were coming. It took years for her to settle after she arrived," the man spoke seemingly to himself before hopping down off his stool and retrieving a ring of keys from inside his robes.

Atticus watched him in bewilderment. Wasn't this man going to tell him just where exactly he was? And who was this "she" he was referring to? The man in front found the desired key and placed it into a heavy looking gold lock before swinging the gates open and gesturing for Atticus to pass through.

"Welcome home. I suspect she'll be through soon enough to greet you. Rest assured she isn't going to let anyone else get to you before she does; she's been counting down the hours ever since she was told you'd be arriving," the man continued smiling as Atticus passed him by, looking him over warily as he did so.

As the gates clanged shut behind him, Atticus took into the surroundings he now found himself in. He appeared to be in what looked like an opulent entrance hall with plush red carpet and white marble columns supporting the high ceilings. There were a multitude of heavy oak doors running the lengths of both walls at either side of him, all with heavy brass bolts to prevent any unauthorised access. A grand staircase filled the centre of the room, swinging out to each side and going on as far as the eye could see with people above walking around on the various landings. From what Atticus could discern from his place on the ground, there were more similar heavy oak doors on each landing above him, all with golden plaques shimmering in the light.

Atticus was more confused than he could ever remember being. He knew he had died but surely this couldn't be Heaven. Where were the angels? Where were the clouds? And where was the good Lord himself? Shouldn't He be here to welcome him to wherever this was? And shouldn't he be able to look down below him and see his two children and his grandchildren? None of this was making sense at all and there didn't appear to be anyone willing to clear his befuddled mind.

"Excuse me!" Atticus called up from his place below, desperate to have someone explain to him just where exactly he was. The people on the landing closest to the ground merely glanced down before going on with their business causing Atticus to become slightly frustrated. He let out a groan and had just put one foot on the staircase when one of the heavy oak doors creaked open to his right, out of which walked a slight young woman. As he turned and took in this new arrival, Atticus' heart soared when he realised it wasn't just any woman who had joined him.

"Jean?" He asked in disbelief.

Jean's face broke into a wide smile and in seconds she had crossed the floor and had flung herself into his arms, her hands making to grasp at every part of him. Still in a state of awe, Atticus slowly wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her tightly against him, closing his eyes in bliss as he breathed in the vanilla scent which still clung to her as it had when she was on earth. Lord, how he had missed having her in his arms.

"I've missed you so much, my love. So so much." Her hands went to either side of his face as she pulled back to gaze into his eyes, her thumbs caressing his cheeks while her own eyes started to shimmer with tears.

"Not half as much as I've missed you." Atticus leaned forward and captured her lips with his before resting his forehead on hers. "It's been thirty-seven years, Jean. And not one day of those thirty-seven years went by where I didn't think of you in some way." He kissed her again. "You look incredible, my love." He stood back to fully take in her appearance.

She looked no older than she had been when Scout was born and, as Atticus looked closer, he realised she was wearing the same dress she had worn the day after their daughter's birth. Her soft brown hair still hung in soft curls, her brown eyes still danced with life and love for him, and her ever present smile still remained on her face. She was still the breathtaking beauty he had married all those years ago.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She replied, raising her hands to his shoulders and turning him around to face a mirror which Atticus was certain hadn't been there moments ago.

He found himself gasping somewhat as he stared at his reflection. Gone was his snowy white hair, his saggy skin and face full of wrinkles and in their place was the face of a man forty years younger. He was shocked as he took in his jet-black hair and taut skin; so used was he to his eighty year old self he almost didn't recognise himself in the mirror. Behind him, he saw his wife smile warmly at him.

"I look…" Atticus raised one hand to his cheek.

"You look just like you did in the April of 1926 when we welcomed our daughter into the world. You had me, you had Jem and you had Scout. That was when you felt happiest in your life and that's how you're going to spend all of eternity; as a man of forty-one." Jean informed him, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

"What is this place?" He turned from the mirror back to his wife. For the first time in his life he was unsure of something.

"I just told you, my love. This is eternity." Jean told him, moving to take his hand and lead him up the staircase and through the throngs of people on the landings.

As they continued to climb, Atticus couldn't help but to recognise various faces in the crowd. They passed old John Taylor who was walking arm and arm with his wife; he dipped his hat and promised to come and find him once he had gotten himself settled, they passed Jean's brother Charlie who patted Atticus' back and said how happy he was that Jean finally had someone to keep her company; apparently she'd been sulking around for years waiting on him, and they passed Tom Robinson. Atticus felt his heart catch in his throat as Tom approached him with a wide smile. He shook Atticus' hand, thanked him for everything he had done for him during that terrible trial, apologised for the way things had ended and said he'd be mighty pleased if Atticus could find the time to come and visit him and Helen. Atticus said he'd enjoy nothing more.

"I see you haven't been lonely, then?" Atticus asked, beaming at his wife and enjoying the familiar sensation of her small hand in his.

"I was for a while," she admitted honestly. "I thought I was on my own when I arrived and it took some time for me to find mama. Then I realised that I could watch over you and the children and then Charlie arrived so it wasn't all bad. I was happy," she assured him with a smile.

"I done the best I could with them, Jean. It wasn't easy," Atticus spoke up at the mention of Jem and Scout. It hadn't been easy that was the truth. He'd been left floundering after Jean had died, utterly terrified at the prospect of bringing up two children without her but he hoped with all his heart she thought he had pointed them in the right direction in life. He had tried to raise them both in a way that would make her proud of them. He hoped she was.

"Honey, there is no need for you to defend yourself. You more than made up for my absence and our children are wonderful people thanks to you. I couldn't be prouder of the people they've become because of you." Jean squeezed his hand to show her sincerity.

"The thought of your disappointment was always something that scared me. I didn't want to let you down," he spoke quietly.

Jean stopped outside another heavy oak door and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You didn't let me down, Atticus, get that thought of your head right now. Our children are wonderful people who were raised by an equally wonderful father. You did brilliantly." She kissed him sweetly before turning back to the door.

A glance to the door displayed a shiny new plaque upon which was written the inscription _Atticus & Jean Finch_.

"Hmm, they must change them. This mornin' this just had my name," she thought out loud. "Anyway, from what I've gathered in my time here, it looks as if each family and extended family get their own wing of this place. My daddy and my mama are just across the hall from us, Charlie is a few doors down, your daddy and mama are just across from him, and Alexandra's husband Jimmy is beside them again. We have quite the little get together's sometimes," she explained all this to him quickly before turning back to push open the door to their own room. "And this is our room." She twirled in and plopped herself down on the bed, looking at her husband with a coy smile. "We can finally put this bed to good use."

"You mean we can…?" Atticus trailed off, not sure if he had picked up her meaning correctly.

"Of course. But not yet. You haven't been buried yet. But once that's been done..." She winked at him.

Atticus found himself smirking at her as she laid herself out enticingly on the bed. However, no matter how strong his desire was for her at the moment, there was another thought pushing its way forward in his mind, one that had been on the forefront of his mind since his arrival; their children.

"Can we see Jem and Scout?" He asked hopefully.

Jean slid off the bed and silently took his hand in his to direct him to a set of glass doors which led on to a balcony. "If you look down, you can see them clear as day," she relayed, looking over the balcony herself.

As Atticus glanced over, he felt something pull at his heart. There stood Jem and Scout by his bedside. Jem holding his sister close as she sobbed uncontrollably and Jem tried to fight back his own tears. He had told them not to be upset, that he had lived a full and fulfilling life and would be going to a place where there was only happiness. It seemed as if he had taken all their happiness with him when he died as both his children looked as though they would never smile again.

"It's hard for them. Scout especially," Jean spoke up from his side. "You were the only parent she ever really knew and now she's bein' forced to say goodbye to you. It'll take some time for her to adjust to life without you in it."

"Can we go to them?" He then asked.

"I can. You won't be able to until you're buried. I don't exactly know why." She explained, laying her hand lightly on his arm. She couldn't help but notice his shoulders sag slightly with disappointment. "They were talkin' earlier about having you buried next to me," she told him gently.

"I wouldn't want anything else." Atticus kissed her forehead and headed back through the glass doors, the sight of his children crying over his dead body being too much for him to handle.

Jean followed him back through where he was climbing onto the bed and resting back against the pillows, his hands covering his face. "I know how hard it is to watch and not be able to be a physical part of their lives, honey, but they'll join us in time. We can even have them back as little kids if you'd like." She crawled on the bed beside him to try and comfort him. "I can't wait to hold my babies in my arms again."

"Let's not talk about them joining us just yet. They've still got their whole lives ahead of them." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to his chest where she sighed contentedly.

"I've missed your hugs." She told him to which he gave her a squeeze. She then sat up and pressed her lips to his. "And your kisses." She settled back down on his chest. "I never really left, you know," she then said, breaking the silence that followed. "I was always there with you whether you knew it not. I never left," she repeated.

"I know you were, my love," he answered. Honestly, he knew she had never left him. In the first excruciatingly painful days following her death, he knew she was the streak of moonlight casting a glow while he rocked Scout to sleep. He knew when he sat by her grave and told her about how life was, the gentle gust of wind on his face was Jean letting him know she was nearby. He knew that when he sat out on the porch swing every evening and looked up at the stars, she was there beside him. He mightn't have been able to see her, but she was always there.

"I was with you through everything, Atticus. I was with you in Jem's room when he wouldn't stop calling for me at night, I was with you on Scout's first day of school when you were thinking how unfair it was that I wasn't there to see it, I was there when you lost the trial, and I was there when Bob Ewell came after our children," she continued to reassure him.

"Honey, I know. I felt you with me everyday." He assured her, touching his lips to her hair. For ages they simple lay in contended silence. Jean enjoying hearing her husband's very real heartbeat in her ear and Atticus enjoying just having his wife in his arms again after so many years. It was Jean who then broke their silence again.

"Honey, there's somethin' I've always wondered."

"Hmm? And what's that?"

"Why didn't you marry again?"

Atticus didn't even have to think as he gave her his answer. "Do you honestly believe I could marry again after experiencing what we had? You were, and still are, the best thing that ever happened to me, I could never love anyone the way I love you. I wasn't going to pretend to love another woman when my heart did and always will belong to you. Being apart from you was the cruelest form of torture but I couldn't picture myself being with anyone else." He replied and placed another kiss into her hair.

Jean sat up from his chest once more, gazing lovingly into his brown eyes as she caressed his cheek with the side of her finger. "This is eternity, my love. We'll never be apart again." She reassured him and leaned down to kiss him like she had never kissed him before.


End file.
